Light and Shadow

Picture of the day: Winter morning by the Arno

2012-02-15T09:45:00.000+01:00

Last week I spent a few days in Florence, Italy. This picture is taken early in the morning, as I walk along the Arno river. The old bridge: Ponte Vecchio, and the streets surrounding, are almost deserted, something that is extremely unusual, but surely due to the cold February weather.

Picture of the day: Snow covered lake

2012-02-06T07:00:00.010+01:00

This photo is taken almost exactly one year ago. In february 2011 the lake had a solid layer of ice, and on top of that there was a lot of snow. Here is my daughter and my niece going for a walk on the shoveled pathway - on the lake! This year this hasn't been possible, because temperatures have been too high , and there is not enough ice.

Picture of the day: Montmartre

2012-02-05T14:43:00.002+01:00

This street (Rue de l'Abreuvoir) is one of the typical, old, winding streets on Montmartre, and it's only a few minutes' walk from where I'll be staying this winter/spring. This is actually going to be my neighborhood for a while, and I had no idea when I took the picture, more than two years ago.

Denne gata (Rue de l'Abreuvoir) er en av de typiske, gamle gatene som slynger seg oppover Montmartre-høyden, og den er bare noen minutters gåtur fra der hvor jeg skal bo i vinter/vår. Dette skal faktisk bli nabolaget en god stund, og det ante jeg slett ikke da jeg tok bildet for mer enn to år siden.

Picture of the day: Paris Breakfast

2012-02-03T11:42:00.002+01:00

I snapped this picture about a year ago, when I spent a weekend by my self in Paris, preparing for my guided tours. Breakfast outside (in February!), in front of the Sorbonne University, where I was once a student.

Cappuccino, orange juice, croissant and a piece of baguette with strawberry jam, that's what I call breakfast!

Shantaram (Book Review)

2012-01-30T11:03:00.001+01:00

I finally got around to read this book: Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, a book which has been in my possession over a year. It is part of my TBR (To Be Read) mountain, and a natural part of my Reading Challenge.

I started reading it on the plane to Mumbai a little more than a year ago, and it was very strange indeed to leave the plane and experience exactly what the author describes on that first page. The humid air, the people, the languages, the special something in the air. And, only hours later, I found myself on the back of a 2-wheeler, speeding trough crazy traffic, exactly like the main character had been doing.

Luckily, there are not more similarities, except for me recognizing the country, the way people talk, their gestures, the cooking, the chai drinking etc. I can smell India while reading.

The story is largely auto-biographical. How much of it that is fiction, well, that's hard to tell, and it doesn't really matter to me.

If you haven't read this 2003 novel yet, here are just a few words to help you decide: 930 pages. Yes, it's a huge novel, and everything is not excellent, but it is an amazing story, in which you get to know a world and a way of thinking that may be foreign to many of us. The main character has escaped from prison in Australia, arrives in Mumbai (then Bombay) with a false passport and is known as Lin. He meets Prabaker, an indian cab driver which becomes a close friend. He goes to Prabaker's home village for 6 months, learns the language Marathi, and later moves into the same slum as his friend. He lives in the slum for months, helping out and making many friends.

Then he gets to be part of the mafia, act as an extra in several Bollywood movies, goes to war, is imprisoned again, and the story goes on and on. Here and there, there are wonderful sentences like this one:

"Don't worry...It's a great adventure, your life, and it has only just begun..."

Paris

2012-01-24T21:30:00.007+01:00

I wrote this post about maybe going to Paris this vinter. Well, now it's settled - almost. My husband has a grant paying for him doing research at the Louvre museum, we have found schools who happily accept our children for 6 weeks, and now, we'll just have to find a place to stay.

The schools are at the foot of the Montmartre hill, with the beautiful Sacre-Coeur church. (On the photo: My daughter and I in front of the Sacre-Coeur a couple of years ago.)

I'm now working on finding an apartment for us not too far from the schools, and I really hope it will work out, as living close by Montmartre would be just perfect. The area has cozy streets, winding their way up and down the hill, interesting shops, galleries and lots and lots of cafés and restaurants.

We'll have to learn all about "compact living", as we won't be able to have more than 2 bedrooms between the 6 of us. :-)

If everything works out nicely, I'll study, write and take pictures, and now I'm more and more eager for this to happen.

Paris was my first real home, after leaving my parents, and after living there for more than 5 years, and visiting many, many times, there is a rather big piece of my heart hidden within this beautiful city's streets, gardens and sights. I feel at home there, and I feel free.

Picture of the day: Norway Winter Wonderland

2012-01-23T08:43:00.000+01:00

Picture taken with my mobile phone on a cross-country skiing trip a couple of weeks ago.

Snow-covered silence and crisp, cold air.

I suddenly realize that this is exotic. That this view, this experience, so common to us Northern people, is extremely special and rare to most people in the world.

En Glad Gutt, by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (Book Review)

2012-01-22T17:26:00.002+01:00

"En glad gutt" ("A Happy Boy") was the second book I finished on my "mountain climbing trip" (Reading Challenge) this year. It was actually part of a local reading challenge, one where everybody in my town got this book for free, and the idea was that as many as possible read the book in 2011, our town's 150th anniversary. Well, I got it in 2011, but read it only now.

This novel is one of the key works of Norwegian literature, and the author: Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, is one of our most cherished writers. (He wrote the lyrics to our National Anthem "Ja vi elsker".) The book was first published in 1860, and it's both a historic drama and a universal story about love, hate, disappointment and happiness. Øyvind, the main character is a young boy who despite being very bright and good in school, has to fight to get acceptance, because of his humble background. When he falls in love with the girl on the largest and most important farm, well, there is trouble in sight...

En glad gutt var den andre boka jeg ble ferdig med på "fjellklatringen" min (lese-utfordringen, se her) i år. Boka var en del av Gjøviks Bys 150årsjubileum, og den ble delt ut gratis til alle, i håp om at flest mulig i byen leste denne boka i 2011. Vel, jeg leste den ikke før nå.

Romanen er en av de sentrale bondefortellingene i norsk litteratur, skrevet av Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, vår store nasjonalromantiske dikter. Den ble først utgitt i 1860, og det er både et historisk drama og en allmenngyldig historie om kjærlighet, hat, skuffelse og glede. Øyvind, hovedpersonen, er en ung gutt som til tross for at han er svært flink på skolen, må sloss for anerkjennelse lokalt, fordi han bare er en husmannsgutt. Når han blir glad i jenta på den største gården i bygda blir det problemer...

A Change in Altitude by Anita Shreve

2012-01-20T13:53:00.000+01:00

This was the first book I finished this year, and it's part of my take on the Mount TBR Reading Challenge.

I love this author, and I've already read a couple of other books by the American Anita Shreve. This one, A Change in Altitude, published in 2009, I'm not sure of what I think about it. A good read, yes, definitively, but is it a really good novel? There are lots of loose ends, there are many characters which I neve got to know very well, and the main character, what is really happening to her?

Anyway, the story sticks with me after finishing the book, and there are several intriguing points.

The story is this: A young, newlywed American couple, Margaret and Patrick, sets off for an adventurous stay in Kenya. A few months into their stay, they are invited to join on a climb of Mount Kenya, Africa's second tallest mountain. They are not at all trained or fit for this, but they do it anyway. Something awful will happen on the mountain, and the main plot is about what's going on in Margaret's mind afterwards. The language is very good, and you really get to know Nairobi and the culture. I visited there 16 years ago, and lots of things came back to me while reading this book.

Anyway, a book about a climbing trip was a good way to start this literary mountain climbing,

Picture of the day: My 11-year-old

2012-01-16T07:00:00.000+01:00

It was taken last year, this picture of my then 11-year-old son.

Picture of the day: The Smile

2012-01-15T07:00:00.000+01:00

This is definitively the picture that goes straight to my heart: My youngest, happily smiling with gingerbread crumbs all over his face. Childhood, happiness, love. ♥

Christmas Snapshots: Dinner Party

2012-01-14T07:00:00.001+01:00

On the 2nd Day of Christmas... we had a dinner party, with family and friends. First: Gløgg (spicy, hot drink) and starters: Rolls of lefse with salmon, ham or cheese. Then: Roast lamb with garlic and rosmary. Side dishes: ratatouille and rice. To finish, we had the traditional platter of christmas cookies and goodies, accompagned with coffee and tea. In between the eating, there was playing, talking and music. Hanging out together, just like Christmas is supposed to be! :-)

Talking and drawing

Playing and talking

Demonstrating toys

Playing

Eating

and having fun

concentrating

Christmas Snapshots: Christmas Morning

2012-01-13T07:00:00.002+01:00

Early Christmas Day. Gifts under the tree, coffee cups on the table, sleepy faces with smiles. It's still dark out there, but the sun is rising as we're opiening gifts and watching the cat going crazy over wrapping paper and ribbons.

Living in Paris this winter/spring

2012-01-12T09:38:00.000+01:00

Well, yes. It seems like I'm taking off for a while, to Paris...
Nothing is certain yet, but I might be living in my beloved city for 1-2 months. Right now I'm looking for an appartment and trying to make arrangments for the children. We'll see how it goes! :-)

Kolya - the movie

2012-01-10T14:12:00.001+01:00

Soviet occupied Czechoslovakia. Louka, a cello player who is kicked out of the symphony orchestra because of anti-communism ideas, and now he earns his life by playing the cello at funerals and painting tombstones, while constantly chasing after the ladies.

Living alone in a bohemian kind of loft, with an amazing view of rooftops and church spears, he would never think about marriage and family.

Kolya, little Russian boy, shows up one day, and he is going to completely change Louka's life and personality...

A beautiful and funny, yet serious, little movie, which I just discovered. It's written by Pavel Taussig and Zdenek Sverák, directed by Jan Sverák, and the lead roles are played by Zdenek Sverák and Andrei Chalimon. I can highly recommend it!

Kolya was made in 1996. See here for more information.

I've started climbing.

2012-01-09T12:52:00.000+01:00

So, I've started climbing. Se here for more information on my book mountain climbing trip. I've finished A Change in Altitude, and I'm now reading Shantaram. I've also chosen to make some changes in my climbing itinerary: These two: Metronome by Lorànt Deutsch and Une Vie de Pintade à Paris by Layla Demay and Laure Watrin are now part of my trip. I've wanted to read these for a while, since they might be useful for my work as a guide/educator in Paris. They really belong on this mountain.

My New Reading List:

Anita Shreve: A Change in Altitude
Gregory David Roberts: Shantaram
Peter Hain and Desmond Tutu: Mandela
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson: En Glad Gutt
Rainer Maria Rilke: Letters to a young poet
F. Scott Fitzgerald: Tender is the night
Nicholas Sparks: Safe Heaven
Anita Shreve: Fortune's Rocks
Lorànt Deutsch: Metronome
Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Brødrene Karamazov
Dan Brown: The Lost Symbol
Mark Lévy: Les Enfants de la liberté
Knut Hamsun: Victoria
Ketil Bjørnstad: Liv Ullmann - Livslinjer
Sophie Kinsella: Mini Shopaholic
Gloria DeGaetano: Parenting Well in a Media Age
Stephenie Meyer: The Host
S. Mitra Kalita: My Two Indias
Marc Lévy: Mes Amis Mes Amours
Solveig Tufte Johansen: Bare Natten har verdensrom
Nicholas Sparks: A Walk to Remember
Anita Diamant: Good Harbor
Jean-Paul Kauffmann: La Lutte avec l'Ange
Bergliot Hobæk Haff: Den Evige Jøde
Layla Demay and Laure Watrin: Une vie de Pintade à Paris

New Reading Challenge

2012-01-03T18:18:00.003+01:00

While visting the excellent blog xo.sorcha.ox, I found a great reading challenge. It's hosted by Bev at My Reader's Block, called the Mount TBR Reading Challenge 2012, and it's basically about getting to read books in your "To be read"- pile. (mountain...) All the books you choose to read during the challenge have to be in your possession as of January 1st 2012, and no library books can be counted in.
This challenge is probably what I need to actually read many of those great books I have lying around my house, some on bookshelves, others piled on my nightstand or floor. Some of them I have started reading, but for whatever reason wasn't able to continue past the beginning. Most of these books are completely unread.
There are several levels on this challenge, from the lowest of 12 books (Pike's Pike) to the highest of 100 books (Mount Everest.)
I'll go for Mount Vancouver, and I've listed the 25 books I plan on reading this year. Most of them are writtten in English, 6 in Norwegian and 3 in French. They are mostly novels, but also several non--fiction, among them some biographies and a collection of lettres.
Fun fact: The first novel on my list is about a couple climbing a mountain. What a great way to start this Mount TBR Reading Challenge.
Well, I need to start climbing!

My Reading List:

Anita Shreve: A Change in Altitude
Gregory David Roberts: Shantaram
Peter Hain and Desmond Tutu: Mandela
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson: En Glad Gutt
Rainer Maria Rilke: Letters to a young poet
F. Scott Fitzgerald: Tender is the night
Nicholas Sparks: Safe Heaven
Anita Shreve: Fortune's Rocks
Valerie Martin: The Confessions of Edward Day
Fyodor Dostoyevsky: Brødrene Karamazov
Dan Brown: The Lost Symbol
Mark Lévy: Les Enfants de la liberté
Knut Hamsun: Victoria
Ketil Bjørnstad: Liv Ullmann - Livslinjer
Sophie Kinsella: Mini Shopaholic
Gloria DeGaetano: Parenting Well in a Media Age
Stephenie Meyer: The Host
S. Mitra Kalita: My Two Indias
Marc Lévy: Mes Amis Mes Amours
Solveig Tufte Johansen: Bare Natten har verdensrom
Nicholas Sparks: A Walk to Remember
Anita Diamant: Good Harbor
Jean-Paul Kauffmann: La Lutte avec l'Ange
Bergliot Hobæk Haff: Den Evige Jøde
Charles Nicholl: Leonardo da Vinci: The Hights of the Mind

Christmas Snapshots: Gingerbread!

2012-01-02T14:36:00.001+01:00

About a week before Christmas, we made the traditional gingerbread cookies. (The dough was made a couple of days earlier.) Delicious Christmasy smell in our house that day!

Omtrent en uke før jul, laget vi de tradisjonelle pepperkakene. (Deigen ble laget et par dager før.) Julelukt i hele huset den dagen!

And Winter was back!

2012-01-01T17:29:00.001+01:00

New Year's Day 2012. Just a few hours of daylight at this time of the year, and I decided to go for a short walk, in the hope that some air and light would make me feel good. Prolonged sickness and then the Holidays with lots of catering to guests, cooking for many, cleaning up, laundry, all this has taken it's toll, and I woke up this morning feeling like... - well, after all maybe not any worse than all those who partied all night?

Anyway, I went for a little walk. After days of icy roads and practically no snow, there has been another snowfall, (to my son's great joy!) and my walk was actually hard work, as I was constantly sinking down and having to pull my feet up for each step.

Coming back inside the house, I was exthausted, and since, it has been all about lying on the coach, reading, drinking tea, listening to music, falling asleep while watching winter sports on TV, waking up again, talking to my kids and now anticipating dinner (which I'm not cooking!)

Happy New Year! :-)

Skiing in our backyard

2011-12-31T14:39:00.002+01:00

This beautiful Winter Wonderland didn't last long. The warmer weather melted away most of our Christmas Card snow. But, on Christmas Eve, when these pictures were taken, Jonatan could still enjoy skiing in our backyard. :-)

Swan Lake - The Russian Way

2011-12-27T18:05:00.001+01:00

Two weeks before Christmas, our little town received a visit from the Russian ballet ensemble St. Petersburg State Ballet. It was simply amazing to experience such a world class performance of Swan Lake here in our little theatre.
Wonderful dancers, enchanting backdrops and costumes, and, of course Pyotr Tchaikovsky's beautiful and strong music made the whole thing an unforgettable experience.

Natalya Pothekina danced the roles of Odette and Odile, and Sergey Popov was prince Siegfried.

The story is simple, but thrilling: Odette and the other swans are young girls who only can assume human form at night, because of a spell cast by the evil Rothbart. The only thing that can break this spell is devoted love...

Prince Siegfried falls in love with Odette, but then, mistakes Odile, Rothbart's daughter for Odette, and proclaims his love to the wrong girl... In one version of Swan Lake the whole thing ends in disaster and sorrow, like the version danced by The Pacific Northwest Ballet in Seattle in 2009.

But in this version, prince Siegfried fights the evil magician, and the spell is broken. Love wins.

The Royal Palace

The lake

Christmas Eve

2011-12-27T15:49:00.000+01:00

My bunch this Christmas Eve.

Gjengen min, på julaften.

December Days Part IV

2011-12-20T14:15:00.001+01:00

Early morning cello practice today. It was still dark, and very Christmasy out there, with all this snow, the cold and the decorations all over town. There were four of us playing together this morning, and we went through some Christmas carols, and some pieces by Mendelssohn and Mascagni.
After practicing, we had a coffee in town before getting on with whatever each of us had planned for the day. For me that meant hurrying home so that my husband could go to work. Our youngest is not in full time daycare, so today is one of those days were we just hang out, and get different things done around the house. We've made some cookie dough (that right now sits in the pantry waiting to become cookies), done some cleaning, playing, had lunch, and I have answered about a 1000 "why?"s . (That's life with a 4-year-old! ☺)
After lunch we have quiet time. The 4-year-old reads books in his room, and I stretch out on the living-room coach, gathering strength for the rest of the day. Tonight I work as a parent educator, and before that, three other kids are coming home from school, and I think there is some Christmas gift making to be done with my 8-year-old.
Have a wonderful December 20th!

Photo: Gjøvik2011.no

Four Candles

2011-12-19T09:35:00.001+01:00

Yesterday we lightened the fourth candle. The fourth and last Sunday of Advent. The kids can't wait for Christmas to be here, but we adults, well, we think it's completely ok with another 5 days...

Today I'm doing paperwork at my desk, paying bills, signing pictures, packing pictures, writing bills. I'm taking a break in the middle of the day, going to my son's school for Christmas lunch.

Outside the snow covers everything now. Winter Wonderland. Birds are happily flocking around the goodies we've put out for them, and the cat is enjoying the warm indoors.

Have a nice week! ☺

I går tente vi det fjerde lyset. Det fjerde og siste søndagen i advent. Barna kan knapt vente på at det blir jul, mens vi voksne, vi synes det er helt greit med 5 dager til...

I dag gjør jeg kontorarbeid, betaler regninger, signerer bilder, pakker bilder, skriver regninger.

Jeg tar en pause midt på dagen og drar på julelunsj i min sønns klasse.

Ute dekker snøen alt nå. Et vinter-eventyrland. Småfuglene flagrer lykkelig rundt juleneket, og katten nyter varmen inne.

Ha en fin uke! ☺

Photo: Jonty Joyce

The Digital Story of the Nativity

2011-12-18T20:49:00.001+01:00

I came over this 1year old Youtube video the other day, and I like it. The Christmas story told through Facebook, Twitter, email etc. Fun, and interesting!

Picture of the day: Traditional Norwegian dress

2011-12-18T07:00:00.001+01:00

I already posted these pictures on my photography blog, but they also belong here, since this beautiful model is my daughter. It's actually very difficult for me to photograph my own children, I always have a hard time separating the two roles of being both the photographer and the mom. But, here I feel that I was able to make some pictures we both can be proud of. :-)

December Days Part III

2011-12-17T14:21:00.006+01:00

I have been forced to think about priorities these last weeks. Sorry for rambling about sickness (I don't particularly enjoy it when others do that...), but I've had the longest lasting "cold" in my life (sore throat, cough, sinus infection, headache, snot, fever, the works!) and there has been very little strength to spare, once my work days has been over. Some days I've just felt like staying in bed, but Christmas is up in less than a week, and there are lots of things to be done.

Or, are there - really?

Just thinking, because I read Facebook updates about stressed-out people who don't think they will get everything done in time, and I hear people talk about how little time there is to do all these things that really must be done. Then you have those who already finished everything (they started in October), and by now their house is spotless, all the cookies are baked and boxed, all gifts are wrapped, and they can lean back and just wait. They don't mean to, but they stress out the others even more...
What do I need for it to be Christmas?
Really, not much. But, there are things the children would miss if they weren't there, and there are things that make us feel good. So, we have baked gingerbread cookies, and tomorrow we'll make marzipan. (Yes, the real, homemade marzipan that has nothing in common with the store-bought, too sweet kind.)
As I'm writing this, my husband is out with the youngest kids, braving the crowds at the shopping mall. I let him find whatever's needed, that is a dress for our youngest daughter, some poinsettias (julestjerner) and groceries for this weekend.
We've got some gifts for the kids, Christmas music cd's, Nativity scene in the bay window, and next week we'll get a tree and put up some decorations. The house is not spotless, not at all, but hopefully we'll manage to keep the worst dust bunnies under control. At the moment, I've landed on the coach, trying to stop that head from spinning. Advice to you all: Lessen the requirements, the expectations of what you should achieve. Try to breathe, focus on the important stuff, and leave the rest. Christmas memories are not made out of clean floors and cupboards, stylish interiors or designer decorations. They are made out of candles, songs, food, candy, being together, without stress, and something that you could never find at the mall: Christmas Magic.

Picture of the day: Paris Café Scene

2011-12-17T07:00:00.001+01:00

I took this picture last April, and it's a good friend of mine who is enjoying café life on Montmartre. We're right on the spot where late 19th century artists used to meet: Monet, Renoir, Zola, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cezanne and many more. I just love Paris, and I love this area, which has, despite the tourism, kept a lot of it's village spirit.

Picture of the day: Godmother and -child

2011-12-16T18:51:00.001+01:00

My eldest daughter with my niece, on the day of her baptism. My daughter is her godmother, and a proud one, too!

Picture of the day: Cat and Girl

2011-12-15T15:00:00.001+01:00

My 8-year-old just loves our kitten, and here they are, one about to falling asleep, the other one already in dreamland. Picture taken with my mobile phone, since no camera was handy at the moment.

Cute - or really annoying Christmas song?

2011-12-15T10:11:00.000+01:00

I have a box of Christmas CD's. Lots and lots of song, and some of them are beautiful, others are...not so beautiful. Some of them get easily stuck on your brain, and when that happens with one of those not-so-beautiful-songs, it's really, really annoying.
This one, Dominick the Donkey, isn't very well known in Norway. I never heard it growing up, and maybe that was a good thing?
The song is really silly, about a "Christmas Donkey" (of all things!), written by Ray Allen, Sam Saltzberg and Wandra Merrell, and recorded in 1960 by Lou Monte.
I warn you, it is for sure one of those songs who easily get stuck on your brain, and you'll end up humming at work, or singing it in the shower.

Old Pictures: Cover Girl

2011-12-13T18:02:00.001+01:00

Well, these pictures aren't that old, taken only about 15 years ago, and I'm sorry, but I don't recall the photographer's name. We had lots of fun, both my daughter and I during the photoshoot, and maybe I got an idea about what I was going to work with a few years later?...

Enfant Magazine

Picture of the day: Man and Woman by Picasso

2011-12-10T15:22:00.000+01:00

I saw this painting by Pablo Picasso a month ago in the National Gallery in Oslo. It's made in 1903, and it is very typical for Picasso's blue period. The palette of colors is cold, bluish, and the theme is blue: A man and woman sitting in a café. Their expressions are gloomy, stiff, frozen, and we can sense there is some kind of tragedy behind the scene. The picture is often called just "Man and Woman sitting in a café", but the caption on the frame says, in French: Le Pauvre Ménage, which translates something like "The poor couple", "the poor family", or "a couple that we feel sorry for."

It's an expressionist painting for sure, and there is so much untold within these brush strokes. Just like "The embrace", that I wrote about earlier this year.

I feel with them, even though I don' know their story. I can feel the hurt, the cold, the hopelessness, and the emptiness in the woman's eyes...

Finally - some snow!

2011-12-09T16:40:00.001+01:00

-Is it winter now? My 4-year-old exclaimed, and he could hardly believe it when I assured him that yes, it's winter. -Why isn't it fall anymore? he asked.

-Well, because it's cold, it's December, and since yesterday we have snow.

He smiled his broadest smile, and sighed. -I love snow, he said.

December Days Part II

2011-12-07T22:49:00.003+01:00

Vincent Van Gogh: Starry Night. Museum of Modern Art, New York.

Well, that perfect good night's sleep didn't happen exactly. (And before you consider go on reading: This is 100% rambling. Stumbling words, not-at-all-edited thoughts from a working from home mom, single parenting at the moment, and having evil viruses around the house.)
About last night: First, I couldn't sleep right away, my thoughts just wouldn't shut up, and then, when I finally was sound asleep, my 4-year-old woke me up, wanting to move into my bed. Well, we got all his "things" (Stuffed tiger, stuffed lion, stuffed dog, blankets, sippy cup of water etc.), and he went back to breathing peacefully, nestled close by me. I had to go to the bathroom, and then, I had a hard time sleeping again, until finally I was in Dream Land. Not for long, though, because my 8-year-old suddenly stood by my bed murmuring that she just had a bad dream. Needed some comforting before being able to calm down. This happened once more, and then, suddenly, I realized my alarm clock would go off in ten minutes. It was time to get up for the day, and I hadn't really slept much at all...

My 8-year-old still had a fever, so I kept her home for the 2nd day in a row, something that has never happened (because of sickness, that is, we have taken her out of school a lot because of traveling...) since she started school 2 1/2 years ago. I intended on keeping her in bed most of the day, so that I could get some work done. Well, she switched back and forth between her bed, where she read books, and the livingroom coach, watching Toy Story II and Animal Planet.

My 12-year-old impressed me. After fiishing breakfast really quick, he sat down for half an hour preparing for an English test, then he practiced the piano for ten minutes, and left the house with plenty of margin to be at school on time. My 15-year-old left shortly after, she had a mid-term today, and was rather stressed out because of it. Then, there was the big Calm descending on my kitchen. My sick 8-year-old sat there, not talking, trying to eat a little. Then my 4-year-old showed up, sleepy, wanting to have breakfast too. I had my 2nd cup of coffee, and decided not to rush him to daycare. We would just take our time, and then walk to to the daycare center when he was ready.

Not. My eldest called. She had missed her bus, and now she was in serious trouble. I realized I had to drive, and in a few instants I was able to get dressed, making my son finish his breakfast, pack his bag and lay out clothes for him so that his big sister could help him get dressed while I got everything together and simultaneously called my daughter's school to inform them that she would be late and beg them to let her take her midterm anyway.

We made it ok, but I can't exactly say that there was a warm and fuzzy atmosphere in the car this morning. Then, arriving at the daycare center, I realized I had forgotten my son's bag at home...
In the end I was back home, checked on my sick child, made her drink some more juice, and got started on my work.

My 8-year-old is still sick, by the way, and I should really get to bed now. Good night.

December Days.

2011-12-06T22:20:00.001+01:00

December days. Mostly about not recovering from this virus or whatever it is that has been bugging me - literally - for over a month now! - and hanging out with kids who are either sick or not sick any more. We keep a wood fire burning and light a lot of candles, because the days are so short, and flickering flames have this special gift of making hearts warmer.
The kids take turns every day in opening a little present on the Advent calendar on the kitchen wall, they play Christmas tunes on the piano and they prepare gifts and hide secrets in their rooms. I try to get some work done while they're in school, and I try to prevent my house from looking like a total disaster zone. Not sure if I succed that one, though...
I never get to know the bliss of empty hampers, and the kids are getting used to finding their socks, underwear and jeans in the "clean laundry" pile. But that's ok, after all, and in the middle of these mountains of laundry not folded, school books, papers and legos, I try to write Christmas cards, while listening to some of my ancient Christmas cd's. And I'm burning incense, - long lovely-smelling sticks bought in Pune (India), Paris or China Town in Vancouver, Candada.
Our world is small. Our life is short. We should try and make the best of whatever is right now. For me, Right Now is a cup of tea, some dark chocolate, a purring kitten by my side, and four sleeping children I love to death, the fact that now by 10PM I'm showered, already in my PJ's and that it looks like my night will be more than 6 hours. :-) What's your Right Now?

Small things may have a huge impact!

2011-12-05T14:48:00.002+01:00

Photo: www.bestparty-ideas.com

A few weeks ago I wrote this piece in the Norwegian newspaper Dagbladet. It's about the importance of Norwegian parents taking responsibility in including immigrant kids in birthday parties and other kid activities. I think this may have a big impact, because it helps in closing the gap between cultures. Kids who become friends, don't care about culture, religion or where you come from, they just play, and this is a wonderful basis for building a multi-culturual society. Connecting our kids may actually helpe us have less prejudice - and a better world to live in!

I was contacted by a journalist from Familieverden, a Norwegian website for parents, who wanted to make a piece on me. When she learned that I have a personal story to go with my opinion (that we made sure my daughter's classmate from Somalia got to attend her 6-years-birthday party, and that they still are friends, 9 years later), she asked to make an interview with both me and my daughters friend.

Here you can read the article. (Still in Norwegian.)

Then, last week, a regional radio station (NRK 1 Hedmark/Oppland) wanted to make a story on us, and it ended up being broadcasted both regionally and nationally (NRK P2) and also written as a web story on www.nrk.no.

Photo: Hanne Stine Kind

Here you can listen to the radio broadcast:

It didn't end there. Before the day was over, we had a TV team coming over, and on Friday night, there was a news story both on the regional network (NRK Østnytt) and on the main national news broadcast (NRK Dagsrevyen)

Here is the TV broadcast, where you even get a glimpse of my youngest, playing on the floor. :-)

Photo: Hanne Stine Kind

Monday Night Thoughts

2011-11-28T21:48:00.003+01:00

Night has fallen. My windowpanes are black, an a wind storm is playing with the trees and shrubs in the back yard. Inside my house a wood fire is burning, candles are my main light source, and apart from the wind out there, it's all silence. I should be in bed by now. I really should. This cold or flu or whatever is is hasn't left me yet, and I'm alone with the kids again for some days and surely need my strength tomorrow. But, this tiny patch of stillness is special to me. I can almost hear the silence, and even just for a few minutes, it is valuable, so I stay, at least for a little while.
There are loads of laundry which should have been folded, sticky floors who badly need some mopping, but after washing and reading to two kids, distributing medicine to another two, and tucking in and hugging all four of them, I just want to sit here for a little while, letting my thoughts wander, breathing and not really thinking or preparing for tomorrow. Tomorrow, my youngest child's 4th birthday. He will of course have gifts and special attention in the morning, and then, when the others come home, we'll celebrate over dinner and pie.
The kitten is nestling down close to me now. Purring. Her face reminds me of little Simba from The Lion King. She radiates serenity and comfort, and I can feel myself taking longer breaths just by looking at her. Time to go to sleep now. Good Night.

Picture of the day: Annunciation by Fra Angelico

2011-11-27T14:26:00.002+01:00

As we enter the Advent season, I want to show you this fresco made by Fra Angelico in 1440-1445. You can see it IRL in the covent of San Marco in Florence, on the dormitory wall. When you enter the dormitory from the staircase, this huge painting is the first thing you'll catch sight of.
A young and humble virgin Mary being visited by the angel telling her about what's going to happen. What could possibly go through her mind at that moment? Well, we wouldn't know, but I think Fra Angelico, in his (for us) old-fashioned, and somewhat static style, captures some of those unknown feelings and thoughts. It's the first Sunday of Advent today. For us this can be a season for preparing, thinking through, taking time to get to know what kind of feelings, thoughts and priorities we actually have...

Nå når vi går inn i Adventstiden, vil jeg vise dere denne fresken: "Bebudelsen", laget av Fra Angelico i 1440-1445. Du kan se det i virkeligheten i San Marco-klosteret i Firenze, på veggen i soveavdelingen. Når du kommer inn hit fra trappen, er dette enorme maleriet det første du får øye på.
En ung og ydmyk jomfru Maria som får besøk av engelen som forteller henne om hva skom skal skje. Hva i all verden tenkte hun på i det øyeblikket? Vi har ingen mulighet til å vite det, men jeg synes Fra Angelico i sin (for oss) gammelmodige og ganske statiske stil får tak i noen av disse ukjente følelsene og tankene.
Det er første søndag i advent i dag. For oss kan dette bli en tid hvor vi forbereder, tenker gjennom, tar tid til å bli kjent med hva slags følelser, tanker og prioriteringer vi faktisk har...

Picture of the day: In front of the camera this time

2011-11-21T18:11:00.001+01:00

A photographer friend of mine needed a model for an assignment: A self-portrait.

Here you see the result. I think it's a playful, creative photograph, and it was fun to be a part of it, even though it was a strange feeling, to be on the other side of the camera...

Picture of the day: Little Riding Girl

2011-11-18T15:16:00.000+01:00

My youngest Daughter, Alma, right where she want to be!

Picture of the day: "Not too sure about this"...

2011-11-16T20:18:00.001+01:00

My youngest, 3 1/2 years old, at the open air museum in Trondheim this summer. He's dressed up to look like a boy from the early 1900's, but he's not sure what to think of it all. Not yet, anyway, but shortly after he was enjoying the whole experience.

Childhood Days

2011-11-15T07:00:00.003+01:00

Just a few snapshots from one of these mornings we have to ourselves, my preschooler and I. He is our youngest, and two days every week I can focus on him, not haul him along to the other kids' activities, not making him wait because I have important things to do.

Small joys, like finding and eating a big tomato, playing with cars on the floor, not having to stress and hurry, not getting fully dressed (unless we decide to go for a walk), having the time to talk, ask questions and answer them. Being in the present. Not over-thinking. And, I get to see the world as an almost 4-year-old sees it. What a blessing.

Without Hope - or Crazy With Fear

2011-11-14T07:00:00.001+01:00

This painting is made by Eugène Delacroix, the French 19th Century artist. I saw it in the National Gallery in Oslo last week, and I really wonder how I can have missed it until now...

It's an amazing, intriguing piece of work. The Norwegian title is "På Kanten av Stupet", which translates "On the edge of the cliff", and the caption says that the original, French title is "Le désespéré" (The despaired, the one feeling without hope.) Well, I think the correct French title actually is "Fou de Peur", or "Crazy with Fear." Anyway, no matter which title this painting has, it's obviously about a man about to fall, to let himself fall... His expression is pained, desperate, panicked.

The painting is left partly unfinished, and I wonder if that may be intentional. He (the artist himself?) is letting himself fall, away, into the unknown.

Some talk about suicide, others will say it's about going crazy. I simply see the reflection of that feeling many of us are familiar with, the feeling of loosing our grip on life, that the ground beneath our feet is disappearing and that we're slipping into a huge void. Fear. Hopelessness. Anxiety.

Anyway, it's a must-see if you ever go to Oslo.

Kitchen Table Thoughts

2011-11-13T15:36:00.001+01:00

Alone again. Not for long, of course, only a little more than a week, but being at less than 50% of my capacities. it is not easy. I'm suffering from a sore throat, runny nose, headache and lots and lots of self pity. The thing is, with work and 4 kids, there is no way I can be sick, so I just have to handle it as best I can. During the week it has been the usual: Getting up early, making breakfast and waking the children, making sure they all get to school on time. The days I worked, I took my youngest to daycare first, but the other days, we could hang out in our PJ's all morning, talk, play, just not doing that much. I love having those days with him, and I think they are very important also, for my little boy.
Work days this week has been about photoshoots, photo editing and making of proof albums. And I've been writing on a couple of articles.

Then weekend came. On Saturday my eldest son participated in the regional final of 1st LEGO League, something he and his team had worked towards for weeks. I had to get up at 6:45 AM to help him prepare for his day and send him off. Since my eldest daughter had rehearsals all day for an upcoming show: "Reisen til Julestjernen" (she is both dancing ballet AND playing the piano in the show, I brought the two youngest to watch my son's team compete. It took place at the local University College (Høgskolen i Gjøvik), and the place was packed. Kids everywhere, running, stressing, panicking, preparing their robots, trying to find their way in this big, confusing setup. But, the whole thing is really amazing, and I'm impressed by the kids and what they're able to do. I'm also very proud of my son, who acted so calm and focused, and really did a great job! After watching several performances, I had to run some errands (grocery store, post office etc.) before I took the small kids back home for lunch Then laundry, cleaning and cooking for dinner that night: Home made pizzas. My eldest daughter made it back just in time, and we all enjoyed pizza, soda and some candy and games after dinner. Then my daughter went out again to meet with friends, and after putting the youngest kids to bed, I watched a movie with my eldest son.

Today my eldest daughter had rehearsals again, she took off in the morning, and I brought my sons to watch my youngest daughter perform at the local riding show. (She was picked up by a friend of mine early in the morning, since they need time to prepare and warm up the horses.) Did I mention I'm sick, and that my youngest is sick too? He actually threw up on the floor in the horse barn, and I could hardly talk all morning, my voice only a hoarse, coarse, strange sound.
Well, anyway, I was so proud of my little girl doing her performance, all alone in that huge riding hall, in front of the judges, but in the end we were all so cold we could hardly wait to come back home.
Wood fire, warm waffles and hot chocolate helped a lot, and we had a cozy lunch at the kitchen table. Afterwards, I read a book to my youngest, and now he is is sleeping, my youngest daughter watching "The Cat in the Hat" movie, and my eldest son playing on the computer. I've made some coffee, taken some more painkillers, and now I do remember to breathe.

In a little while I'll cook dinner, prepare the kids' school lunches for tomorrow and hopefully have an early night. I need that. (Single) Motherhood is not for whimps, that's certain, but then again, it's also very rewarding, fulfulling and nice. Just not that easy when sick...

A New Baby...

2011-11-11T13:39:00.001+01:00

We have a new baby at home. Little 8-week-old Lussi (Lucia), an adorable kitten, came to us this Tuesday, and we're all madly in love with her. She is so cute, funny, cuddly, and when she isn't running around like crazy, climbing on furniture, knocking over flower vases, and chasing toys, she is in her basket, sleeping like - a baby. :-)

Happy (our other cat) disappeared a month ago. We've been looking everywhere, putting up posters, distributing flyers and having ads published in the local papers, but nothing. The grief has been really tough, hard, something that could only understood if one ever got attached to a pet...

Last weekend, a neighbor told us about this kitten with no home, and even though we've not completely given up hope of finding Happy, and despite us thinking that it would be wise to wait for a while, we caved - once we saw the little cutie. If Happy comes back, well, we'll have two cats, that's all.

Lussi spent a few hours being scared and unsure about this new setting, but after lunch, when the three-year-old went down for his nap, she decided to copy that, and fell fast asleep in the basket I had prepared for her.

Now she is following us around everywhere in the house, purring and smiling her kitten-smiles, playing with the various cat-toys my youngest daughter has made for her, and suddenly falling asleep, whenever she feels like it.

Happy Birthday, Important Birthday!

2011-10-31T11:18:00.006+01:00

(English translation is coming up.)

INNVANDRERBARNA MÅ MED I BURSDAGENE

(Kronikk på trykk i Dagbladet, i dag, mandag 31. oktober 2011. Klikk her for teksten på Dagbladet.no)

Foto: Tor Richardsen/Scanpix

Barnebursdagen er ekstremt viktig i norsk kultur, og det har den vært i generasjoner. Norske barn drømmer om dagen sin gjennom hele året, teller ned til neste gang, og det å bli invitert i en annens selskap er alltid stort.

Bursdagsbarnet har en svært sterk posisjon. Han eller hun er diktator for en dag, og hvem har ikke hørt argumentet som avslutter en hver diskusjon: "Hvis ikke, så får du ikke komme i bursdagen min!"

Til tross for at den ofte inneholder elementer som intriger, skuffelser, gråt og krangel: Barnebursdagen holder stand som noe svært viktig i Norge, kanskje mer enn noen gang. Den er et viktig element, og en av de aller tidligste sosiale referansene i barndommen. Å vokse opp i Norge uten å være en del av dette, har sannsynligvis større ringvirkninger enn mange tenker over, og dette gjelder dessverre mange barn i minoritetsgrupper.

Jeg har selv lagt merke til at barn med innvandrerbakgrunn ofte ikke kommer i bursdagsselskap, til tross for at skolene ofte har regler for invitasjon, slik at ingen skal bli utelatt.

De inviterer sjeldnere selv, kanskje fordi familien ikke har tradisjon for barneselskap, og de kommer også sjeldnere i bursdagsselskap når de er invitert. Dette gjelder også for familiegrupper og andre sosiale tiltak som styres av foreldre/foresatte på norske skoler.

Dette er ikke bra. Barn fra minoritetsmiljø må få være med på bursdag! Jeg tror at dette faktisk er en stor og viktig nøkkel når det gjelder problemene med integrering og behersking av norsk språk i landet vårt.

Disse jentene og guttene som aldri er med i barneselskap, aldri blåser lys eller synger "Hurra for deg", de vokser opp blant oss uten å få denne viktige fellesreferansen som vi fortsatt har i landet vårt. De går glipp av selve festen, men enda verre, de går glipp av alt den representerer, alt man kan snakke om etterpå, fra å ha vært hjemme hos andre i klassen, møtt familien, sett rommet eller hunden, til å ha lekt gjemsel eller flasketuten peker på.

De kommer automatisk på sidelinjen i etterkant og tyr da naturlig nok til andre som er i situasjon, og både integrering og trening i norsk språk lider.

Her må foreldre på banen. Dette gjelder alle, både de som regner seg som helt norske, og de som ikke er det. Innvandrerforeldre må rett og slett få lære at barnebursdager er viktig i Norge. At man ikke bare kan overse en bursdagsinvitasjon, men at det tvert imot er viktig at datteren eller sønnen innfinner seg på angitt sted og tid, med nykjemmet hår og gave eller konvolutt i hånden.

Og, jeg mener at vi som regner oss som helnorske foreldre, vi må ta ansvar her. Vi må ta inn over oss at ikke en krøllete lapp på bunnen av barnets skolesekk alltid blir lest. Enten fordi mor ikke har tilstrekkelig med norskkunnskaper, eller rett og slett fordi familien det gjelder kommer fra en kultur der det som er viktig formidles muntlig.
Andre grunner kan være at man ikke har bil, ikke er kjent i byen, eller også fordi man er skeptisk. Hva i all verden er dette,- hvorfor skal barnet mitt dra dit, til et fremmed hjem, hvorfor? Hva får de å spise, hva skjer der? Jeg kan selv med hånden på hjertet si at hadde jeg bodd i et land hvor jeg ikke var godt kjent, verken på stedet eller med språket og kulturen, hadde jeg aldri latt barnet mitt bli igjen hos en familie jeg ikke kjente. Aldri i verden!

Så, vi må ta ansvar! Vi må tørre å ta kontakt. Ringe, forklare hva det gjelder, tilby å hente/bringe med egen bil, gjerne komme innom på forhånd, snakke med en norsktalende storesøster som kan oversette, forklare. Og, kyllingpølser finnes i alle dagligvarebutikker, så det er heller ikke der problemet ligger...

Dette er nemlig viktig. Så ubetydelig som det kan virke, så er barnebursdagen en enormt viktig byggeplass for Norges framtid! Seksåringer er fortsatt så unge at foreldre kan manipulere og styre, og her kan vi dytte barna i riktig retning, sørge for at de bygger felles referanser fra første stund.

Den lille somaliske jenta som nylig var kommet til Norge og fikk sjansen til å bli med på bursdag allerede i 1. klasse, hun fikk helt fra starten av skoletiden være med på å bygge disse viktige referansene som barna har med seg videre.
Hun kunne være med på snakkingen i friminuttet, og når hun senere gikk inn i ungdommen, selv om hun var stolt av familiens kultur, så var hun også forankret i det norske, noe som knyttet henne til sin generasjon av norsk ungdom.

Norge har blitt et fargerikt land, det er en en kjensgjerning, enten man mener det er et gode eller ikke. Mitt håp er at vi fremover skal klare å bygge en nasjonal identitet som går på tvers av denne regnbuen, og jeg tror vi vil finne en vidunderlig gullgryte av muligheter for lille Norge, men da må vi ikke la kulturelle og etniske skillelinjer vokse seg store, til de blir uoverstigelige kløfter. Vi kan ha forskjellige religioner og kulturer, men vi er alle innbyggere i Norge, og Norge er landet vårt.

Da jeg var barn het et av kapitlene i O-fag-boka: "USA, en smeltedigel for verdens folk". Norge er nå på mange måter blitt en slik smeltedigel, i mindre målestokk, selvføgelig, og jeg tror det er mulig å skape noe flott og felles, samtidig som vi tar vare på våre forskjellige språk, religioner og tradisjoner. Vi har plass nok, og forskjellene og fargeprakten gjør bare fedrelandet vårt enda flottere!

Barna er vår framtid, sier en litt tynnslitt floskel, men det er sant. Det sterke skillet som mange steder eksisterer mellom etnisk norske og fremmedkulturelle blant voksne, det vil aldri bedres hvis vi ikke begynner med de små, og kan vi klare å bringe barna sammen, på tvers av regnbuen, da er det håp også for morgendagens Norge.

Fotball, kor og andre fritidsaktiviteter er med alle arenaer som er med på dette, men i dag foreslår jeg at vi begynner med bursdagsselskapet!

My newborn niece

2011-10-25T07:00:00.000+02:00

Just realized that when I posted some summer pictures the other day, there were photos of her siblings, but none of her, the 6-week-old little sister.

Well, here she is, asleep and contented, in her mother's arms.

Autumn Paris in my Heart

2011-10-24T10:48:00.002+02:00

This is Paris: The city where I lived for many years. The city I have visited almost every single year since I was 17. The city I love.

A year ago, I finally put into action what I had been thinking about for a long time: Create discovery trips to Paris. This past year I've taken three groups to my beautiful city. I let them disover Paris through walks and small lectures, and we vistit museums and enjoy wonderful meals at my carefully chosen restaurants and cafés.

For me, this is fun, extremely rewarding, and really part of what's essential to life!

After these three first trips where I've been completely on my own, I'm now affiliated with Inspiratour, a Norwegian travel company, but I'll still do the trips my way. Next weekend trip is coming up in May 2012.

The name of my trips is Oppdagelesferd, which translates something like Exploring Trip. The kind of journey a little child would do, with senses wide open, taking in everything. :-)

The Lake Growing Wild

2011-10-23T14:39:00.001+02:00

This summer there was a rather big flood here. The lake couldn't handle all the rain and the huge amounts of water coming from the rivers, so it just flooded. People living on the shores had their basements flooded, and the water caused some traffic problems, but nobody was hurt.
As we're living a little bit uphill from the lake, the flooding didn't affect us, but still, the sight of flooded playgrounds, underpasses and picnic areas was strange.

Sunrise

2011-10-20T22:52:00.001+02:00

The Sun by Edvard Munch

Early this morning I was walking out the door with my youngest. Frost was in the air, and the fall colors more vivid than ever. Jonatan, my 3-year-old was all bundled up in his stroller, while I prepared to walk fast to keep my warmth. The little boy was in awe over the redness of the sky. -Why? he asked. Why is the sky so red? Well, I started to explain to him about the sun getting ready to rise, and then it happened: Just then, when we started down the street, the sun peeked over the hills on the far side of the lake, and the golden rays went out in all directions, stretching as far as we could see. We stood there for a little while, just admiring this eternal performance, and when I continued walking, pushing the stroller and turning right at the corner, I realized our own home was kissed all over by this beautiful newly awake autumn sun. It was as if it wanted to melt away the night frost and all our worries at the same time.
What a beautiful start to our day! :-)

INVICTUS

2011-10-17T13:28:00.001+02:00

I just saw this 2009 movie about Nelson Mandela and the South African rugby team: Invictus, directed by Clint Eastwood. In short, it's a true story about how Mandela, newly elected President of South Africa, managed to unite his country and start building this new kind of nation, through rugby, traditionally the Afrikaaners' favorite sport. The South African team Springboks was struggeling, and Mandela decided to help them reach the ultimate goal: Win the world cup, on South African soil in 1995.

The movie strongly portraits the fear and the prejudice, on either side of the racial divide, and how this strong leader could go against the public opinion and do what he thought was possible.

The friendship between the president (Morgan Freeman) and the team's captain François Pienaar (Matt Damon) is shown in an understated and beautiful way.

Clint Eastwood has made a highly watchable movie, who, albeit "typically american" in many ways, get an important message across, and - it's all true!

For more information, click here.

Grandpa's flowers

2011-10-13T07:00:00.002+02:00

By the end of last summer, I mentioned to my father-in-law that I would love to have some of his shrubs and perennial flowers in my garden.

Well, he took my request seriously, went ahead digging and cutting. It was all trimmed down, just stumps without any flowers, and we left the next day with 14 big plastic bags filled with dirt, roots and twigs. We had 7 hours of driving to do, with four kids in that same car...

Coming home, it was a true nightmare to find spaces for all of it, to dig the holes, to get these ugly, dirty things planted. I sort of regretted ever having asked that question. You see, I'm a garden person, but not really a gardening person... But, before summer was gone, I got it all planted, and then, after a long, cold winter, when the thick layer of snow finally was gone, my garden started to wake up, and what a joy to see all those colors! I didn't have a clue what it was, most of it, and those stumps and roots surely didn't give away what they were going to look like when they sprung to life!

For five beautiful months we've now had a symphony of different flowers around the house, and in this picture you can see the October edition.

Thank you, Grandpa!

Summer Days

2011-10-12T07:00:00.008+02:00

Summer is short in Norway, and we need it, to stock up on warmth and light before yet another dark and cold winter. Even though most Norwegians complained a lot over a summer who never really came this year, I disagree. Summer was here, really, and we enjoyed it. These are snapshots of my children, one of their friends and two of their cousins, playing in our backyard and at the swimming pool. The tree house was my eldest son's project this summer, and they have all had great fun in building it and playing in it.

Picture of the day: The Orlando Cooling Towers

2011-10-11T21:10:00.003+02:00

These towers are maybe the best known landmarks of Soweto, South Africa. Not having to compete with any high rise buildings, they can be seen from just about everywhere in Soweto (an area of about 40 square miles (104 square kilometers) and even thought they once belonged to the Orlando power station, polluting the air of the people living in the area, today these two 100 meter high concrete towers form a symbol of Soweto, and once grey and dull, they now are canvases for colorful murals, depicting the struggle for freedom and justice and also celebrating everyday life in South Africa. I took this picture while visiting Soweto in July this year. The pale winter colors made the towers stand out even more!

Candle days are back

2011-10-11T07:00:00.001+02:00

Definitively. It's that season. Black windowpanes become mirrors in the morning and at night.
Frost is almost here, and in the house, we put on yet another sweather, to postpone the inevitable: having to turn on the radiators.
Often, and always on these days I'm parenting alone, when my husband is traveling, I get up early, an hour or so before the children.
Sitting at the kitchen table with that first, lifesaving cup of coffee, a candle is burning, and the silence can almost be heard.
Then, I write. The simple action of writing clears my mind, sorting out all these thoughts that gather up during the night.
I can truly recommend this start to the day, especially to all of you who are taking care of other people in one way or another. You'll feel calmer, in control (somewhat, hopefully) and ready to take on whatever is needed that day.

Autumn Thoughts

2011-10-04T20:33:00.004+02:00

I love Fall. It's by far my favorite season, and I think it has always been.

I really love the crispness of the air, the colors, the wind and the sense of newness that for me is connected to Fall, and not so much to Spring...

We just came back from four days at my in-laws. They live, literally, in the woods, about 20 minutes' drive to the nearest store. I get the feeling of time travel and some kind of retreat whenever I go there. This time of the year, colors were amazing, the temperature just perfect for walks, and we had some nice days, sleeping in that old log cabin next to my in-law's house, enjoying shared meals and walks in the woods. At night, the starry sky was amazing, and the only sounds to be heard were those of the wind and the creek.

From my diary: "Lazy morning in old log cabin in the woods. Coffee by my bed. Book. Music from a radio in the kitchen. 3-year-old still sleeping."

"Pale sun trying desperately to warm up the crisp air. Cottonball sheep dotting the fields."

Lynn Johnston have many comic strips featuring the Autumn Season, and here I'll share with you a few. Go to her website For Better or For Worse to check out lots more.

Camille Claudel

2011-09-30T22:27:00.002+02:00

Camille Claudel intrigues me. I've known about her forever, but it was only last weekend, while seeing her work in the Rodin museum in Paris, that I truly appreciated her greatness, and her extraordinary life that ended so horribly sad.

She was only 19 years old in 1882, when she came to Auguste Rodin's workshop. The 42-year-old sculptor took her in as his student, and she very soon became his inspirational muse, his favorite model - and his mistress.

Although he never ended his already long lasting relationship with Rose Beuret, the affaire with Camille Claudel lasted 15 years.

Then he decided to turn his back on her, and Camille, broken and depressed, was shortly after diagnosed with madness. She was locked up in a mental institution, where she died in 1943...

Camille Claudel facinerer meg. Jeg har visst hvem hun var så å si bestandig, men det var først forrige helg, mens jeg så skulpturene hennes i Rodin-museet i Paris, at jeg til fulle oppdaget hennes storhet, og det helt spesielle livet hennes, som endte så fryktelig og så trist.

Hun var bare 19 år gammel i 1882, da hun kom til den berømte skulptøren Auguste Rodins atelier. Den 42årige mesteren tok henne inn som sin elev, og hun ble rastkt hans inspirerende muse, hans favorittmodell, og hans elskerinne.

Selv om han aldri skilte seg fra Rose Beuret, kvinnen han levde sammen med mesteparten av

livet sitt, så varte forholdet til Camille Claudel i 15 år.

Han bestemte seg så for å snu ryggen til henne, og Camille, knust og deprimert, fikk kort tid etter diagnosen galskap. Hun ble innelukket på et mentalsykehus, hvor hun døde i 1943...

Colors of India

2011-09-16T11:03:00.000+02:00

I miss the colors of India. The colors, who are so strong everywhere, who you experience with all senses.

Jeg savner fargene i India. Fargene, som er så sterke overalt, som oppleves med alle sansene på en gang.

TEMA-reporter

2011-09-13T09:12:00.009+02:00

Jeg er en av 10 finalister som kjemper om å få en fantastisk jobb: TEMA-reporter for Star Tour. De trenger en person som kan teste ut noen av reisene deres, og samtidig skrive om det, filme og fotografere. Denne jobben virker som den er skreddersydd for meg! Jeg håper jeg får den, og jeg trenger hjelp fra dere. Hvis du klikker på linken, scroller nedover til du finner stemmeboksene og stemmer på meg, da blir jeg svært glad!

I'm one of 10 finalists competing to get an amazing job: TEMA-reporter for Star Tour. They need a person who can go on some of their travels, and while doing that, write about it and take photographs. Well, I feel this job is really made for me. I hope I get it, and I need your help. If you click on the link, scroll down to the voting boxes, and vote for me, well I'll be very grateful!

Link to the voting page

People in Perpignan

2011-09-11T09:33:00.000+02:00

I wandered the streets of Perpignan. Meeting people, talking to them, learning about their life.

Jeg vandret rundt i Perpignan's gater. Møtte mennesker, snakket med dem, lærte om deres liv og hverdag.

Photography Workshop in Perpignan

2011-09-09T13:17:00.005+02:00

Last week I attended a photographic workshop in Perpignan, France. My teacher was Torkil Færø, Norwegian photographer and MD. The workshop was held during the Visa pour l'image photo festival, and we got to see many exhibitions and meet with other photogaphers.
Our five days in France were inspiring, fun and full of hard work. Here you can see the top pictures from each of the 8 participants. (The black&white ones are mine.)

Forrige uke deltok jeg på en fotografisk workshop i Perpignan, Frankrike. Læreren min var Torkil Færø, norsk fotograf og lege. Workshopen ble holdt under dokumentarfotografifestivalen Visa pour l'image, og vi fikk se mange utstillinger samt møte andre fotografer.
Våre fem dager i Frankrike var inspirerende, morsomme og fylt med hardt arbeid. Her kan du se noen av bildene som de 8 deltakerene tok. (Sort/hvitt-bildene er mine.)

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Afghan Girl

2011-09-01T00:23:00.001+02:00

Just this picture today, Steve McCurry's "Afghan Girl", one of the world's most famous photographs. Portraying a girl in a refugee camp in Pakistan, the picture is taken in 1984, during the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan, and made the front cover of National Geographic Magazine in June 1985.
It's an immensely strong photograph, with an amazing use of colors. It struck me when I first saw it, years ago, and it still sits there as one of my all time favorite photos.

The Dinner

2011-08-26T06:00:00.003+02:00

I've seen La Cena (=The Dinner) twice, and last time was only a week ago. Written and directed by Ettore Scola, this Italian (Italian/French actually) 1998 movie is a delightful piece of cinematic art. You are in a restaurant somewhere in Italy, from just before they open, until the last guests leave for the night. Along with the camera, we circle around the restaurant, stop at the tables, peek into the kitchen and back again. We meet Flora, the hostess, and we meet the cook and his staff, the waiters and the owner, Flora's husband who drops by to have a meal. We get to know the guests, we listen to their conversations, discover their dramas and everyday issues, and the whole thing is seamlessly made so that we just go with the flow, believe in it, in a way that it could have been a documentary.

There is the mother-daughter constellation, the girl with too many lovers, the student and her professor boyfriend, the lonely poet and the party of teenagers. It's a lovely movie. The music, the atmosphere, it just feels like Italy, and I want to go there!

I'll just mention Fanny Ardant as Flora and Marie Gillain as the young student having an affair with her married professor. For more about the cast etc, see here.

The Kiss

2011-08-25T06:00:00.007+02:00

Auguste Rodin: The Kiss. Photo: Kristine Grav Hardeberg

This very famous sculpture can be seen in the Rodin Museum in Paris. It was made by Auguste Rodin in 1889. It's original title was Francesca da Rimini, as it actually depcits her, the 13th century woman that fell in love with her husband's brother, Paolo Malatesta while reading the book about Lancelot and Guinevere. (The story about Francesca and Paolo is part of Dante's Inferno) Francesca was killed by her husband, who interrupted the kiss...

I love this statue. It feels so real, you almost forget that this is marble, rock. And, I see similarities with Canova's Amor and Psyche. A work of art like this one, you can't just have a glimpse at it, and move on. You have to take your time, look at it, gaze at it, and physically change your point of view several times. While you turn around the statue, you'll rediscover it over and over again.

Auguste Rodin: The Kiss. Photo: Kristine Grav Hardeberg

New Windows

2011-08-24T12:45:00.002+02:00

Finally, after almost 10 years in this house, we're getting the three really old windows changed, that is one bathroom and my two youngest kids' rooms. The old windows have been leaking ice-cold air every winter, so I'm really happy that it's being done now.
My 3-year-old has been excited about this all summer, and has asked almost every day, "When do I get my new window? Tomorrow?"

Yesterday they finally started tearing down molding, and this morning the contractor showed up early, getting to work. Jonatan was thrilled. Trotting after the contractor, following every step, asking questions, helping him by holding doors open etc. He was really bummed when he realized he had to leave with Daddy, but the contractor promised him that when he came home this afternoon, everything would be really nice in his room, and he sort of accepted that. I have the feeling he might be our future handyman!

And, by the way, having contractors at my door early in the morning, when I work from home, and sort of planned on lying in, because of a cold I want to fight back, that is, well, interesting. It involves a lot of peeking around the corner, seeing if the coast is clear, since I'm not that comfortable showing my pj's and horrible sleep-hair to everybody...

http://www.fbofw.com/

Hungry Baby

2011-08-23T16:27:00.003+02:00

August is World Breastfeeding Month. I thought I should share this story with you, from when my second son was three months old.

"Maternity" by Picasso. (I wrote about it here.)

It was October 1999, and I was at the Boston Logan airport, sitting at the gate waiting for boarding. My baby was starting to get hungry, but I really wanted to wait until we were aboard, nestled in a window seat. He was one of these "good babies", which means a baby that hardly ever fusses or cries. (That expression bugs me, by the way. A baby isn't "good" when he doesn't fuss. He is simply content, happy, with no stomach ache or acute need. And, an unhappy baby isn't "bad" or "evil", is he?)
Anyway, this time my little baby boy actually started to fuss. No wonder, since he was used to me feeding him whenever he wanted to. Well, I just didn't feel comfortable feeding him here. On the chairs next to me, on both sides, were important-looking businessmen. Suit, tie, tapping away on their laptops, and I'm sure I could physically feel their occasional sideways gaze, and their frown, which read "I really hope she doesn't even think about breastfeeding here, next to me!"
My baby continued his fussing, starting to search against my chest, bobbing his head, desperately trying to tell me that he wanted to eat, and I tried to hold him differently, up on my shoulder, but now he starting crying - for real. I got up, rocked him in my arms, whispering to him "I'm so sorry, but you'll soon get your milk". My eyes hurt, and I had to fight back tears. This was awful.
After a while he was calmer, and I sat down with him. The suit man on my right looked at me in an annoyed way. This was not fun. This was new mother hell. Couldn't they just start that boarding! My baby, who had been drowsing off for a few minutes, suddenly startled awake and started searching again, frantically this time. Like a little wild animal. This wasn't him, not the baby I was used to. And, this wasn't me...
In the end, my instincts won over me not being comfortable around these New England businessmen, so I snapped open the clasp on my shoulder strap, stuck my baby underneath my t-shirt, where he happily, and with a big sigh, started to eat.
My face was all red. I looked down on my baby, all at the same time making sure no flesh was to be seen.
Somebody cleared his throat, in a somewhat noisy way. It was Mr. Suit. "Well," he said, and when I shot a glimpse in his direction, I realized he was looking straight at me....
I braced myself. And, then he said,
"It was about time you fed that hungry baby!"

Vår beste dag (Our very best day)

2011-08-22T09:16:00.003+02:00

I love this one.

Come and listen to the morning light
The sun lifts his trompet to his lips
Listen to white butterflies' wings
Today can be our best day!
The path we walked to day is still new
Secret, like our very first dawn
Many things are put in front of us,
And many things have to be done,
Today can be our very best day.

Come and listen to the deep when we row towards morning,
Listen, the meduse is tuning it's strings
Full of promises is the tune in a fish's leap
Tody can be our very best day!
Our fjord is as new and blue and glittering as always
Your gaze is free and your back is straight,
Many things are put in front of us,

And many things have to be done,
Today can be our very best day.

Darling, listen to the Dark when our day is over,
The night is humming over distant hills.
The day has given us many things, small and big,
Maybe much more than we understood.
The moon over front yardw and roofs is as new as always,
But keeps silent about our next Dawn.
Many things are put in front of us,

And many things have to be done,
Tomorrow will be our very best day.

Kom og lytt til lyset når det gryr av dag

Solen løfter sin trompet mot munnen.
Lytt til hvite sommerfuglers vingeslag;
Denne dag kan bli vår beste dag!
Stien som vi gikk i går er like ny,
Hemmelig som ved vårt første morgengry;
Mangt skal vi møte – og mangt skal vi mestre
Dagen i dag – den kan bli vår beste dag.

Kom og lytt til dypet når vi ror mot dag,
Hør, maneten stemmer sine strenger.
Løfterik er tonen i et fiskevak,
Denne dag kan bli vår beste dag!
Fjorden vår er like ny og blå og blank,
Blikket ditt er fritt og ryggen like rank,
Mangt skal vi møte – og mangt skal vi mestre
Dagen i dag – den kan bli vår beste dag.

Kjære lytt til mørket når vår dag er gått,
Natten nynner over fjerne åser.
Mangt har dagen skjenket oss av stort og smått,
Mer, kan hende, enn vi har forstått,
Månen over tun og tak er like ny,
Men tier stille om vårt neste morgengry.
Mangt skal vi møte – og mangt skal vi mestre
Dagen i morgen skal bli vår beste dag.

Eric Bye was a famous and multi-talented artist, singer, author, actor, journalist and TV/radio personality. He was loved by the Norwegian people, who mourned his death in 2004.

Picture of the Day: Folding the Laundry

2011-08-19T20:00:00.000+02:00

A picture taken in India, outside the Ganesha temple in Wai, a small town in the Maharashtra-area. I was fascinated by all the women doing the laundry in the river, letting the saris and the quilts dry on the clean steps (nobody walks with shoes on the temple grounds) before helping each other with the folding.

The Chess Pawn

2011-08-17T20:38:00.001+02:00

You can't go back, you can't step aside. All you can do is continue, little by little, on the very same path, straight ahead until you hit the wall... Then there are suddenly unlimited possibilities. But until then, you have to follow your path.

You can go at an angle, only if you chooses to run over somebody, push someone else away. If you don't choose to do that, if you don't want to change path while striking down somone else, well, then you're doomed to continue slowly on the track you started in. Not much prestige. Not much honor. Step by step, you move forward, but there is no recognition, not at all. If you disappear, nobody really cares.

But, if you manage, if you go all the way, then you're suddenly a queen. You can rush back, start all over again, go wherever you want, hit wildly around you, do whatever you want, be on top of the world, while your surroundings quiver with fear – and recognition.

Sjakkbonden

Kan ikke gå tilbake, kan ikke gå til siden. Må bare fortsette på stien din, rett frem, helt til du treffer veggen... Da blir det med ett ubegrenset med muligheter, men enn så lenge må du fortsette på din egen sti.

Kan også slå på skrå, kan ved å felle andre komme over i et annet spor.

Men, hvis du ikke ønsker å forandre kurs på bekostning av andre, da er du dømt til å fortsette sakte men sikkert i det sporet du er plassert i.

Lite prestisje, lite ære. Du kommer deg framover, etter hvert, men er ikke anerkjent, ikke det minste. Om du blir borte er det knapt merkbart, men klarer du deg, klarer du å leve ditt sjakkbondeliv til du kommer frem, da blir du en dronning. Du kan suse tilbake, begynne på nytt, fyke på skrå og tilbake igjen, gjøre hva du vil, slå vilt rundt deg og ta verden med storm, mens omgivelsene skjelver av frykt - og av anerkjennelse.

Hurting Silence

2011-08-05T21:05:00.001+02:00

I haven't posted anything since the awful killings on July 22th. I simply don't have words for it. That something that terrible should happen in my little country, previously so peaceful.
More than 70 persons were killed. Many were badly injured. The whole country is marked by this tragedy.

Three days later I was in Trondheim, my family's town, and I participated in the solidarity walk, we were hundreds of thousands across the country, in every city, every little town, walking in silence, carrying roses and torches.
Just before the walk, there were a few speeches in the town square, and there were artists performing.
In the pouring rain, we stood there, my daugher and I, in the middle of the crowd, listening to the words once written by Nordahl Grieg: "Til Ungdommen" (To the Youth)

Til Ungdommen

av Nordahl Grieg

Kringsatt av fiender,

gå inn i din tid!

Under en blodig storm -

vi deg til strid!

Kanskje du spør i angst,

udekket, åpen:

hva skal jeg kjempe med

hva er mitt våpen?

Her er ditt vern mot vold,

her er ditt sverd:

troen på livet vårt,

menneskets verd.

For all vår fremtids skyld,

søk det og dyrk det,

dø om du må - men:

øk det og styrk det!

Stilt går granatenes

glidende bånd

Stans deres drift mot død

stans dem med ånd!

Krig er forakt for liv.

Fred er å skape.

Kast dine krefter inn:

døden skal tape!

Elsk og berik med drøm

alt stort som var!

Gå mot det ukjente

fravrist det svar.

Ubygde kraftverker,

ukjente stjerner.

Skap dem, med skånet livs

dristige hjerner!

Edelt er mennesket,

jorden er rik!

Finnes her nød og sult

skyldes det svik.

Knus det! I livets navn

skal urett falle.

Solskinn og brød og ånd

eies av alle.

Da synker våpnene

maktesløs ned!

Skaper vi menneskeverd

skaper vi fred.

Den som med høyre arm

bærer en byrde,

dyr og umistelig,

kan ikke myrde.

Dette er løftet vårt

fra bror til bror:

vi vil bli gode mot

menskenes jord.

Vi vil ta vare på

skjønnheten, varmen

som om vi bar et barn

varsomt på armen!

English translation by Joe Gorman (July 28th 2011):

Encircled by enemies,

your time has come!

With blood all around -

prepare to resist.

Anxiously you ask,

defenceless, innocent:

with what shall I fight,

what is my weapon?

Here is your shield,

here is your sword:

faith in our life,

and human dignity.

Our common future:

shape it, define it;

even though the price be death,

you must strengthen mankind!

The weapons of evil

spread silently around us.

Their deathly advances

your spirit must stop!

War despises life,

Peace is its creator.

Give your whole self:

and death loses its sting.

Make greatness and love

grow stronger in your dreams!

So you face the unknown

with quiet understanding.

Great achievements,

distant dreams.

Bring them forth,

through the lives you protect.

Noble is mankind,

bountiful is the earth.

Where there is hunger and suffering,

it is our failing.

In the name of all that is good in life,

injustice must be crushed!

Light, nourishment and free thought

are our common inheritance.

Then the weapons will fall,

sink down, useless!

Create respect for humanity

and we create peace.

He whose right arm

carries a burden,

priceless and precious,

can never murder.

This we promise

from brother to brother:

we will respect

this planet we share.

We will take care of

beauty and warmth

as if bearing an infant

gently in our arms!

Playing with Lions

2011-07-22T14:23:00.001+02:00

On our way from Pretoria to Johannesburg, we stopped for a few hours at the Lion Park. More than 85 lions live there, and also lots of other animals, native to South Africa. The lions have large plains where they roam freely, but there are also nurseries for cubs who need care, and I got to play and cuddle with some of them, only 2 and 4 months old.

Downtown Johannesburg

2011-07-20T15:21:00.001+02:00

A South African street scene. I took this picture last Saturday, when I was exploring Johannesburg all day before flying back to Norway. A fascinating city with lots of huge contrasts!

Sonny Boy

2011-07-19T16:51:00.001+02:00

I usually don't have those great cinematic experiences during a flight. There are a number of factors that prevent me from really watching a movie, such as tiny screen with mediocre quality, disturbances, background noise, falling asleep, and more. I always end up missing bits and pieces of the film, not getting an important point, and very often not remembering it for long.
Well, this was a big exception. During the flight from Amsterdam to Johannesburg, we wanted to see a movie, and we chose the Dutch "Sonny Boy", 2011, directed by Maria Peters. It's based on the true story of Waldemar Nods, a 19-year-old boy from Surinam, who went to Holland in the 1920's, where he would endure hostility and prejudice because of his color and his background. He meets Rika, a married woman in her late thirties, mother of four, and they fall in love, something that is unspeakable in that time...
The story, the pictures, the different themes (Prejudice, racism, family, World War II, hope, love, death) it all add up to a great movie that I really recommend seeing!
Ricky Koole as Rika and Sergio Hasselbaink as Waldemar are wonderful actors, as are many of the others in this rich movie. See here for more information.

Pumba

2011-07-11T21:50:00.001+02:00

So, suddenly I find myself in South-Africa. I'm here for a week, with no specific agenda, since it's my husband who has that (the agenda, that is) for work.

I'm just here. Being. Learning. Reading. Writing.

And after not even a day, I'm face to face with: Pumba! He was posing for me, turning this way and that way, and when I told him that I had my photograph, he turned around and left.

Prokofiev's Romeo & Juliet

2011-07-07T06:00:00.004+02:00

About a month ago my daughter and I went to Oslo, to experience the Norwegian National Ballet's performance of Prokofiev's Romeo & Juliet. Last time I saw this wonderful ballet was in Paris, in the 90's. The music is simply amazing, and the story, Shakespeare's tragedy, is heart-gripping. This choreography was made specifically for the Norwegian National Ballet by Michael Corder in 1992, and it has been performed many times since. But, this was the first time it was done in the new Opera and Ballet house in Oslo. My daughter and I both enjoyed it very much. Sitting on the front row, we had amazing view both of the stage and of the dancers and their facial expressions. My daughter has danced classical ballet since the age of 3, so to her this was also an instructive and inspirational experience.

A wonderful goal for a mother-and daughter outing, one that started with the beautiful train ride from our little town, and then a tasty meal at the restaurant Mother India.

Ballets are special. There is the music, of course, and the dancers, the beauty and the colors. But there really is the story too, with feelings, horror, joy, anger, love, death...

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

(Prologue from Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare.)

Press Photos: Den Norske Opera og Ballett

During one of the intermissions, sitting out by the water. It's raining, but we are protected by large umbrellas.

And, the show is over...

Indian Baby and I

2011-07-06T14:25:00.001+02:00

I was in India, far away from my children, really missing them, and when this baby was placed in my arms, I sat holding her for the longest time. She eventually fell asleep in my arms.

Tricky Summer Days and Fever Talk.

2011-07-05T17:06:00.001+02:00

Yes, summer and kids off school can be complicated when you work from home. I know I can't plan on getting as much done as I can when the kids are in school, but I try to work in between everything else that is happening, and some days my husband takes the kids to the pool, or on ohter outings, so I get a few hours of concentrated work time. Other days, I'm parenting full time.
Last week, I got up at 6:30AM and went for a 40 min. car ride in horrible rainy weather, (it rained so hard I could hardly keep the car straight), to talk to a couple whose wedding I'm going to photograph later this summer. Then there are a baby photography shoot now and then, and I'm in the middle of planning my next guided trip to Paris.
But, now, for a few days, my husband is abroad for work, and I'm alone with my four children, which means no work at all, except answering phone calls and emails.
Well, it could be nice, taking those days off, just spending quality time with my kids, but, (I'd say of course...)the day before my husband left, I came down with a fever... I felt really, really bad, but well, you can't get sick when you have four children to take care of, so with lots of Tylenol and strong will, I've been able to be on my feet long enough to cook meals, do some peace negotiation between siblings when needed, and some house work. Then, I've been back in bed as soon as my youngest has taken his naps, and/or every time the house seemed calm enough for me to dare lying down a little to gather strength. I've been reading books to the two youngest, though, while lying down. That's a great side effect to having a sick mom!
Luckily, when I woke up this morning, I felt somewhat better, so hopefully this fever is leaving for good now! And, I'm glad I feel better, because tonight, after dinner and getting the small kids ready for bed, I'm teaching at the health center. My teenager will hold the fort for 1 1/2 hours.

Borrowed from Lynn Johnston's For Better or For Worse

Les Émotifs Anonymes

2011-07-01T10:36:00.002+02:00

Yesterday we had a preview screening here in our little Norwegian town. We got to see "Les Émotifs Anonymes", (Romantics Anonymous) Directed by Jean-Pierre Améris , and with the main characters played by Isabelle Carré and Benoît Poelvoorde, you're in for a treat. Thanks, Arthaus, for bringing it to us! It's a bitter-sweet story set around a small chocolate factory and two people who struggle with anxiety and social life, but still desperately want to connect.

The movie is extremely funny, and I couldn't help for laughing out loud many, many times. But still, even though the characters are helplessly funny, you just have to like them, and you really care about what's happening to them. To me, this is the sign of a good story, of good acting, - a good movie.

Our small-town cinema called in our very own local chocolate facory: Gjøvik Sjokoladefabrikk, so all spectators got free chocolate and coffee to enjoy while watching the movie. A great stunt!

I går hadde vi en førpremiere her på vår lille småbykino i Gjøvik.

Vi fikk sjansen til å se "Les Émotifs Anonymes" (Anonyme Romantikere)

Med regi av Jean-Pierre Améris, og med hovedrollene besatt av Isabelle Carré og Benoît Poelvoorde, er dette en virkelig godbit. Takk, Arthaus, for at dere gir oss slike filmer!

Det er en bitter-søt fortelling med handling rudt en liten sjokoladefabrikk, og med to mennesker som strever med angst og sosialt liv, men som likevel så inderlig ønsker å komme nær...

Filmen er svært morsom, og jeg måtte le høyt mange, mange ganger. Men likevel, selv om disse personene er så hjelpeløst morsomme, så bare må man like dem, og man ender opp med å virkelig bry seg om hva som skjer med dem. For meg er dette et tegn på en god historie, på gode skuespillerprestasjoner - rett og slett en god film.

Kinoen samarbeidet med vår egen lokale sjokoladefabrikk:
Gjøvik Sjokoladefabrikk, så alle som kom til førpremieren fikk gratis sjokolade og kaffe til filmen. Et flott stunt!

Midnight in Paris

2011-06-30T18:30:00.002+02:00

So. I went to the movies the other night, and - what a treat!
If you love Paris, if you have ever been in that beautiful city, or, if you want to go there some day, then this is the must-see movie.
Midnight in Paris, written and directed by Woody Allen, is nothing less than a love letter to Paris, and even I, who has lived there for years, who know very well that the city isn't all about easy life and wonderful feelings (no place on earth is, I just want to make that clear!), I fell in love with the city over again when I watched this movie.
Beautiful pictures, beautiful music, and a good story, which is sweet and a little bit fantasy-like, but also funny and smile-creating. Yes, even if you never went to Paris, or really don't think about going there, just go and see this film anyway. If you can stand those non-realistic elements, that is... And, even though I'm not that much into fantasy-stuff, well, in this story, I accept it all, and it's lovely!
As usual, I don't want to spill too much, spoilers are definitively not my thing, but the story is this: Young American couple in Paris, Gil and Inez, together with her parents, who are there on business. Gil is a writer, working on a novel, and when he starts wandering the streets all alone at night, he finds himself back in the 20s, with Hemingway, Picasso, Cole Porter, the Fitzgerald's, Gertrude Stein among others...
I love Midnight in Paris. No, I'm in love with it. Childishly in love. And I want to move back to Paris one day!

Book Review: Committed

2011-06-26T15:09:00.001+02:00

On terminal 1 of the Charles-de-Gaulles Airport, waiting for my plane back home from Paris, my eyes caught this book. And I was very happy when I realized this was the paperback version of Committed, Elizabeth Gilbert's new book.

This is a must-read for all of you who read Eat, Pray, Love, her bestselling and extremely auto-biographical novel about her year spent in Italy, India and Indonesia. This one is sort of a follow-up, a book that tells us what happens when the other one ends.

But, this is also a must-read for those of you who are thinking about getting married, for those of you who are already married, and for those of you having children or friends thinking about getting married.

Why? Because it's a wonderful book about marriage, about love and commitment. It's not a novel, at least not a typical one. We follow the author's own life story, that's right, but in addition to that this is a book who digs into the very core of what a marriage is. There is history, and there are lots of different anecdotes, depicting what marriage is, and what is has been, and not been.

For instance, she talks about when intra-racial marriages was illegal, and how ridiculous we see that today, and she predicts that when same-sex marriages are finally globally accepted, we'll look back on today's legal situation and laugh...

The author starts up the book with a strong anti-marriage attitude, and in a way, this is strongly apparent throughout the book. Being actually forced to marry, or accept the deportation of the love of her life, she is for months travelling and studying, resarching the world of matrimony.

A delightful and instructive read.

If the author changes her view on marriage or not, well, you'll see when you get through the book.

Looking back: Norway's Constitution Day

2011-06-25T18:00:00.001+02:00

May 17th is Norway's Constitution Day, the National Day, where everybody is outside in the streets, parading, playing music, singing, eating ice cream. Here comes a series of pictures of May 17th this year:

All four kids, before heading out to the parades.

Parading with Jonatan, in the preschool parade.

With my friend Snehal.

Alma comes by in the parade, with the 2nd graders.

Samuel with the 6th graders.

And Pauline with the 9th graders.

Samuel with the boy scouts, early in the morning.

Pauline and her friend, - spontanous dancing while waiting for the speech.

Jonatan fishing for a treasure!

Alma and her friend preparing for the potatoe race, and Samuel blowing bubbles. (The prize!)

Jonatan's turn in the potatoe race!

Relaxing and hanging out with friends!

Visiting my youngest niece

2011-06-25T13:41:00.002+02:00

A few weeks ago, we visited my sister and her family. We have 7 kids between us now, and this was the first time we got to meet Olivia, my youngest niece, only 6 days old. Here are pictures of her and of the other six kids.

Jonatan (3) holding Olivia

Newborn Sleeping Beauty!

The boys! (Samuel 11 and Viktor 8)

The girls! (Alma 7 and Aurora 5)

Pauline (14) and Olivia

Mother and Daughter at Mother India

2011-06-23T15:24:00.000+02:00

Photo: Jørn H. Moen (Dagbladet)

A few weeks ago, my eldest daughter and I took the train to Oslo, where we attended a ballet performance (upcoming post!) Before the show, we took the tram to our favorite restaurant in Oslo: Mother India, where we enjoyed a long, delicious meal. We ordered different dishes to share, and of course we had each a mango lassi, the yummiest drink you can have in an Indian restaurant! When we left the restaurant, we took the tram down to the Karl Johan street, and walked from there to the Opera house. A nice mother- and - daughter - day!

(The rest of the pictures are all taken with my mobile phone)

Picture of the day: Waiting Camel

2011-06-21T12:45:00.001+02:00

Another picture from my India trip in December last year. This is close to the town of Panchgani, on the top of a mountain plateau.

Picture of the day: My Children

2011-06-20T12:02:00.000+02:00

This picture was taken in March, while we spent a month in France. It's Spring. Sunny and warm.

Alabama?

2011-06-15T15:44:00.002+02:00

Alabama? is the name of a book I just bought. A poetry collection, poems written by Norwegian Helge Torvund.
And for all those who don't read Norwegian, well, this might be the reason you should learn some of my mother tongue! It's written in a beautiful nynorsk language, a language made of words and sentences I just want to eat, to keep.
I'm not a literary critic, nor do I know all the appropriate words and expressions which should be used when one is talking about poetry. So, I let those who know all this take care of the analyzing and dissecting, and I'll just talk about my experience reading these poems.
To me, this is mostly about Light, Love, Illness and Death. And music. These are poems who deal with the big questions, the ones we too rarely get close to, in fear of something, ourselves, probably...
The poems are very all very different from each other, but you can still hear the same voice, the same mind behind them all. There is something about the way Torvund writes that just hits right into my Being.
Personally, I was most touched by the poem about the father who is no longer here. ("Far reist"), the one about life passing by so fast, and children growing up. ("Brått framme"), a poem about goodbyes ("Farveldikt I") and one of the poems about illness and hospital stay. ("Nokturne IV") Then again, every time I pick up the book again, and read another poem once more, this changes, and I see something different, read something different, probably because everything is shifting, me included.
This is a book I will keep close, so that I can regularly go back to it. As I said, Torvund picks up those big themes which way too often are let be on the ground, hushed down, not talked about, and I need them. We all do, don't we?

Easter Egg Hunt

2011-06-11T16:39:00.000+02:00

Yes I know, Easter is almost two months ago, but I never got around to look at the pictures until recently, so here goes: Pictures of this year's egg hunt, early in the morning!

Never Let Me Go

2011-06-10T07:00:00.001+02:00

My sister gave me this novel by Kazuo Ishiguro for my birthday. I thought it was a love story. Well, it is too, at least it has that aspect as well, but this book is something far different from what I expected.

It is an intriguing novel, very well written, and as a reader you end up feeling like a child who doesn't fully understand what's going on around him... And that is exactly what is happening to the characters here!

In the beginning, I googled some words and expressions in an attempt to understand what this was all about, men then I realized that I was not supposed to understand it all, at least not yet...

That's why I'll reveal very little about the story, I'll just give you a few hints: We meet Cathy, now 30 years old, looking back on her childhood years, spent at Hailsham, a boarding school in the English countryside. Her friends Ruth and Tommy are also important characters, and so are some of the teachers.

The school seems very idyllic, but there is a dreadful, sickening secret buried underneath all this childhood play and everyday life...

On a deeper level, this is about being human, the importance of relationships, about first love and life in genereal.

Read it!

There is a movie adapted from this novel, and I'll probably see it some day. But, I'm glad my sister gave me the opportunity to discover Ishiguro's book first!

Alma had a little lamb...

2011-06-09T07:00:00.007+02:00

Two months ago, we visited a sheep farm, close to my parents-in-law, and my 7-year-old daughter was next to Heaven. She loves animals, they love her, and here she got to hold and cuddle newborn lambs. What was even more special, to all of us, was that one of the sheep chose to give birth right then, when we were there. I don't have many pictures of it, because I wanted to watch, capture images in my brain instead of on the memory card. There are a few, though, but I'll show them in another post.

This is about Alma and the lamb.

Picture of the day: Indian Mountains

2011-06-08T10:40:00.000+02:00

The picture is captured on my trip to India last December. These mountains seemed to rise out of a fairytale!

Picture of the day: Coco Chanel by Marie Laurencin

2011-06-07T07:00:00.002+02:00

Last week I discovered Marie Laurencin, an artist who until then was unknown - to me - and I wonder how on earth I didn't know her art before. Her paintings stand out, by their pastel palette, their dream-like style and appearance.

Marie Laurencin was a friend of Picasso and the circle of painters and poets surrounding him. For a while she lived a well-known love story with the poet Apollinaire.

This is a painting is called "Portrait de Mademoiselle Chanel", and it is made in 1923. The portrait can be seen at the Orangerie Museum in Paris, with three other works of Marie Laurencin.

On a Highway to Freedom

2011-06-06T17:10:00.006+02:00

I recently rediscovered this song, one that I had completely forgotten about, probably not heard for more than 20 years. It's called On a Highway to Freedom, by the German band Fahrenheit 104. This was their big 1986 hit. When I listen to it, I recall road trips with my family, being a teenager, staring out the car window, watching landscapes fly by, and spinning dreams about an unknown future.
To me, this song is all about just that: Dreams and hope about the yet-to-be, the unknown, the Something out there...

On a highway to freedom, everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end, never feeling alone.
On a highway to freedom, everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end, never feeling alone.
(we’re riding on fire), never feeling alone, (we’re riding on fire),
Never feeling alone, (we’re riding on fire).
We’re riding on fire, we are crossing the night,
With a burning desire to get higher and higher, we reach out for the light.
And this world will be a better place, we’ll be children of the sun someday.
On a highway to freedom, everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end, never feeling alone.
On a highway to freedom everyone on his way,
Always knowing you’re heading for your dream, never going astray.
On a highway to freedom, everyone’s on the track,
Always keeping on rolling down the road, never driving it back.
We’re riding on fire, we are riding on fire, we are crossing the night,
With a burning desire to get higher and higher, we reach out for the light.
And this world will be a better place,
We’ll be children of the sun someday, someday.

On a highway to freedom everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end,
Never feeling alone (never feeling alone).
On a highway to freedom everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end, ( the rainbow’s end)
Never feeling alone, (never, never feel alone).
On a highway to freedom everyone on his own,
Always longing to find the rainbow’s end, never feeling alone.

Teaching French Language

2011-05-21T13:14:00.003+02:00

I've already written several posts about the different roles I play. Now I want to tell you about my French classes. I just finished my second series of classes, held in an art gallery downtown. It's inspiring to teach and learn within the walls of our small town's oldest building, and with beautiful artwork surrounding us.
My background for being able to do these classes, is my university degree in French language and literature, from the universities of Trondheim, Norway and Sorbonne, Paris, France. In addition to this, I've lived in French-speaking countries for nearly seven years.
I've come up with a short, intensive program, three nights only, with a goal of having my students start talking French almost immediately. It's lots of fun, but it's also hard work, since I make the whole thing from scratch, and I'm literally on my feet for five straight hours, talking and interakting non-stop. First, there is the beginners' class, then, after a short break, I teach the conversation class for the advanced students. The feedback I get, confirms that my idea, these short, intensive courses are exactly what people want.
And even though I get tired, exhausted even, it's very rewarding to see that I am able to transmit my enthusiasm for the French language, and make people communicate, also when they just know a few words! Languages are extremely powerful. They open doors and they create friendships.
Languages are magic.

Picture of the day: Luxembourg Palace

2011-05-17T19:37:00.002+02:00

Imade this picture of Palais du Luxembourg a couple of weeks ago, when I was in Paris as the guide of a group tour.
The palace was built in the 17e century, commissioned by Maria de Medici, the wife of king Henry the fourth. She was from Florence, Italy, and she wanted her palace to look like Palazzo Pitti back in her home town. She also had landscapers build the beautiful garden, Jardin du Luxembourg, around the palace. It's one of my favorite spots in Paris. I just love walking there, especially early in the morning, when I have the garden and the view to myself...

Picture of the day: Quilts hung out to dry

2011-05-15T11:45:00.002+02:00

I took this picture in India last December. Driving by, on a countryside road, I spotted these quilts, freshly washed in the creek.